My Songs Know What You Did in the Dark
by brizamartian
Summary: The boys pretending they don't like each other, going on awkward not-dates, not kissing (cause that'd be weird), not cuddling (cause that'd be weird too), absolutely trying to get on each other's nerves, being completely terrible gooey mush puddles, and, in Furihata's case, trying not to have a stupid crush on someone who may or may not want to kill him with a pair of scissors.
1. I Wanna Hold Your Hand (KasaKise)

Hey there! Haven't posted on ff in a while. Thought I post this here and elsewhere. It's basically just gonna be a series of 500-1,000 word ficlets about my favorite pairings (kasakise, midotaka, aokaga, kuromo, muramuro, and akafuri). You know, just what happens when they're not playing basketball (cause we all know they're hanging out together.) Mostly just for fun, lots of fluff and humor, some language, be warned, and general silliness. Enjoy!

* * *

Ryouta's having a decidedly good day today. He strolls out of his photo shoot, humming an obnoxious pop tune to himself, a light skip in his designer-booted step.

Being a model is fun. You get to flip your hair around, wear nice clothes, and have people gawk at you all day. There's nothing better.

His phone rings in his back pocket as he throws his Prada shades on, feeling himself, _obviously_. A quick peek at the message reveals…

"Senpai!" he squeals to himself, pushing his new fedora higher on his head to read the message. It says: Meet me at the café.

Ryouta doesn't have to wonder _which_ café; he knows the one.

He pops his earbuds in, strutting quick and light towards the little café just a few blocks down. He plays the song he'd been humming.

His humming would no doubt annoy Kasamatsu-senpai, most likely earning him a slap or a kick or a jab, but Ryouta doesn't really mind it so much anymore; he knows Kasamatsu-senpai only hits him because he cares. At least that's what he tells himself. Also, it gives Ryouta an excuse to touch him, which is also welcome.

He hums a little louder, bobbing his head from side to side happily as he approaches. The cute little bell over the door announces his entry and he sees Kasamatsu-senpai sitting at the corner table, a drink in his hand and another one across from him.

Ryouta plants his (cute) tush down in the seat across from him, beaming. "Kasamatsu-senpai!" he greets fondly. He's so, so fond of him, it's ridiculous.

Kasamatsu-senpai glares at him. "I got your favorite," he says grudgingly, a little blush appearing on his cheeks, and a cute little wrinkle forming between his eyebrows as if he's just embarrassed at the prospect of being nice to someone.

"Aww, thank you senpai." Ryouta accepts the drink happily, sipping and humming while Kasamatsu-senpai glares angrily at him and everything else in the room. Ryouta doesn't take it personally anymore. Kasamatsu-senpai always looks like that.

"Was there something you wanted to talk about?" Ryouta asks. As much as he'd like to believe his captain had finally fallen victim to his charms, he doubted he'd just asked him out on a date.

"Yeah," Kasamatsu hedges. "Finish your drink."

Ryouta shrugs. It's his favorite after all, finishing it certainly isn't a chore.

"Photo shoot?" Kasamatsu asks, glaring as he does. He glances over Ryouta's decidedly more-fashionable-than-usual attire including his brand new cashmere cardigan, and Prada sunglasses.

"Mm-hm."

Kasamatsu-senpai sighs. "Right." He sips his own drink lightly, in tiny little spurts, lips puckering and un-puckering as he does.

Ryouta attempts not-staring, and then gives up.

His senpai catches him of course. "What?" he snaps.

Ryouta shakes his head innocently, because he absolutely wasn't (definitely was) imagining what it'd be like to kiss his senpai. Probably great. And sweet like the fruity smoothie he's drinking. And maybe a little rough, but that's ok. Not that he was thinking about it or anything. He wasn't.

"Let's walk," Kasamatsu says, standing.

"'Kay," Ryouta chimes, following him out the door.

It's cold outside. That's why Ryouta scoots closer to his senpai, sleeves just barely brushing. That's definitely (not) why.

Kasamatsu, surprisingly, doesn't move away. Ryouta reasons that he must be cold too. "How's your foot?" he asks.

Ryouta's eyes snap open wide. "You know?"

Kasamatsu glares at him from the corner of his pretty blue eyes. Ryouta likes his eyes. He could drown in them. "Of course," he snorts. "I'm your captain, it's my job to know."

Ryouta shrugs. "It's fine."

"We're playing Fukuda," his senpai reminds. "We can't take them lightly."

Ryouta turns serious. "I know that. I really do."

Kasamatsu stares at him for a long while. "Hey!" he snaps. "You're getting that look. Don't do that."

"What look?"

"That look that says 'I'll take him on by myself.'" He cocks his head to the side. "Hayazaki, right?"

Ryouta nods.

"Well," And at this Kasamatsu jabs his fist into Ryouta's side, eliciting a sting of half repressed "ows" in response. "You _don't _have to. You've got a team to back you up. You've got me. Don't take us lightly."

Ryouta smiles, feeling all warm and fuzzy like he does whenever Kasamatsu-senpai says something remotely encouraging/nice/not mean. Without a thought he takes the fist that's trying to burrow it's way under his rib cage into his hand and holds it. "I know, senpai. I know you've got my back."

Kasamatsu is silent for a while. He stares briefly at the hand holding his and then back to Ryouta. A very pink blush occupies his cheeks. He doesn't let go of Ryouta's hand though, just turns forward, giving it a hard squeeze, and says. "Don't forget it."

Ryouta looks at the hand, warm and still very much in his and he feels like he could vibrate out of his own skin in happiness. Kasamatsu-senpai is actually_ holding his fucking hand._

Ryouta squeezes back. "I won't."

They walk hand-in-hand in silence for the rest of the way to the bus stop. Kasamatsu-senpai doesn't say anything about it and neither does Ryouta.

Instead of a goodbye, his senpai punches him in the arm. "See you later," he says as he does everything: angrily.

_ God, he's cute as hell._ Ryouta nods, kisses him on the forehead before he can think better of it, and practically skips all the way home, leaving his senpai standing there, dumbfounded for several seconds before finally shaking his head and turning to wait for the bus.

Ryouta looks back once, and, yup, there it is.

The smile.

Yeah, definitely a good day.

* * *

Song: _I Want To Hold Your Hand_ by The Beatles


	2. I Would Walk 500 Miles (MidoTaka)

Shintaro stares at the shoe in his right hand and then the one in his left. He repeats this process several times in short succession.

He hears a yawn to his right and spots Takao snoozing on the bench.

The bench where people put there butts to try on shoes.

That can't be sanitary.

"Takao," Shintaro snaps.

"Who died?!" Takao shrieks as he yanked from sleep.

"Which one?" Shintaro asks, holding the two shoes up for him to inspect.

Takao squints at them and then starts cackling, which is unbelievably annoying. "They're the same," he says.

Shintaro shake his head. "They're not," he replies.

Takao stands, stretching, bones popping into place, and strolls over into Shintaro's personal space. Shintaro would move, but he needs Takao to help him pick out new shoes. Also, he doesn't actually mind if Takao is in his personal space; he just likes to pretend that he does. Admitting he actually enjoys the warm, sometimes overbearing presence so near him would be disastrous; the boy already hung all over him, if he knew he really didn't mind it, he'd never be able to get him off.

Why doesn't that sound terrible? Shintaro wonders. Oh, well, it's a problem for another day. His horoscope suggests he not think too much today, as over thinking could lead to his downfall. So he simply won't think about it.

"Oooooh. I see. This one's got two bands around this bottom and this one's only got one."

Shintaro nods, glad he could see the obvious difference.

Takao snorts. "Seriously? It doesn't fucking matter. They'll both look great."

"But, which one will look _better_? It has to be perfect."

Takao shakes his head. "Everything looks perfect on you anyway," he mutters, crossing his arms and looking away.

Shintaro goes silent. He knows that's completely untrue, but…somehow hearing Takao say that, and maybe Takao even _believed_ that…well it made Shintaro…happy.

"Oh," he says, glancing at the shoes. Suddenly, he can't really tell the difference. Maybe he was over thinking after all. "I'll just get these," he says, choosing one at random (something he never does) and heading for the register.

Takao follows close behind, as always.

Instead of asking him to move, or snapping at him, Shintaro takes a healthy step closer to him on the way out.

Takao looks him up and down and Shintaro fights the violent blush creeping up on his face. "Aww," Takao says finally, looping his arm casually through Shintaro's. He tenses, but doesn't move. "You have no idea what to do with compliments, do you?"

Shintaro sputters at him, unable to confirm or deny it.

Takao pats his arm playfully, smothering a cackle that's probably working it's way up his throat. "Oh, Midorima-kun," he says, shaking his head. He sighs slightly and says something Shintaro probably wasn't meant to hear, but the wind decided to take his words right to Shintaro's ears; a stroke of luck earned by his decision to not overthink, no doubt: "Stop being so fucking cute."

Shintaro can't help himself. He pretends he didn't hear. "What?"

Takao looks at him, silver eyes all fake innocent and smiley. He has nice eyes, Takao. Like pools of water in moonlight, but surely they haven't always been _this_ nice?

"Oh, nothing," he says, patting his arm again, a phony grin on his face. "Nothing, nothing at all."

And Shintaro smiles to himself. "I didn't really notice before, but you're pretty cute too, Takao."

The flabbergasted sputtering this earns him is well worth the embarrassment of admitting it aloud. Shintaro just watches in amusement as Takao tries, and fails, to fish out a response to that, silently appreciating the day's horoscope because, as always, it was completely correct.

He could honestly get used to the whole, not-over-thinking thing if it meant Takao was rendered speechless and pink.

Yes, indeed.

He walks with new purpose, random shoes in one arm, and random Takao in the other and he could get used to walking just like this.

Yes, indeed.

* * *

Song: _I Would Be (500 Miles) _by The Proclaimers


	3. You're Awful, I Love You (KuroMo, Aokaga

Aomine-kun and Kagami-kun are fighting. Again._ As usual._

Tetsuya sighs, as does the girl hanging off of him. "Oh, Tetsu," Momoi moans. "Why can't they just get along?"

"They're too much alike," Tetsuya says loud enough for the two idiots to hear him.

Both of their heads snap back in unison. "I'm nothing like him!" they say and then glare daggers at one another.

Momoi rolls her eyes at them. "How about some lunch?" she grits, her pretty face contorted into a look of repressed annoyance. Still pretty though. Tetsuya's not entirely sure how he feels about Momoi sometimes. She's obviously beautiful, but that's not what Tetsuya likes.

She's smart. He likes that a lot. And he finds that when she isn't gushing over him, she's actually a lovely person to talk to. More so that idiot number 1 and idiot number 2 over there.

Tetsuya would swear he sees Kagami's ears twitch at the mention of food.

"I want lunch," he says.

Aomine hits him for no apparent reason. "We know," he says.

"Don't hit me, _Aho_mine!" Kagami growls at him.

"Don't be such a fucking idiot, _Baka_gami!" Aomine snaps back.

Tetsuya's hand almost finds it's way to his forehead in annoyance, but he scolds the face palm into submission.

If only they would get along.

Honestly, they could be the best of friends, really. If they'd stop being so dumb, but - and he watches them bicker on the way to Maji burger for a bit - that doesn't look like it'll happen anytime soon.

Once there, Kagami orders an inordinate amount of food, Aomine glares at him and orders just as much to spite him, Momoi gets a salad, saying something about a diet and her weight, to which Tetsuya replies that she looks perfect at the weight she is, sending her into a fit of mad blushing and giggles, the idiots roll their eyes at them (and really have no right) and Tetsuya gets a milkshake.

"You really think I look fine?" Momoi whispers seriously.

Tetsuya nods. "Yes, Momoi-san. I think you look good. Why do you feel the need to diet?"

"Just…someone told me I was fat," she says unhappily, looking away.

Tetsuya frowns. How rude. He places a hand on her shoulder. "They're wrong," he says. "You're beautiful."

Momoi stares at him and than giggles to herself. "Oh, Tetsu," she sighs, bringing him into a bone crushing hug. The girl's surprising strong, though Tetsuya feels no need to complain, even as he feels his arms bruising.

The idiots aren't paying them any mind as they argue over…something. Honestly, Tetsuya doesn't care. He sips his milkshake and watches their mannerisms instead. The way they lean into each other when then talk. The similarities in their expressions and the differences in their inflections. That tendency they have to disagree on point after point until they run into something they agree on, and then they start grudgingly discussing it.

Somewhere along the way it turns into a full on conversation that doesn't involve arguing.

Tetsuya tunes back in to find that their talking about their shared taste in shoes. He smirks to himself, tuning them out again and looking over at Momoi, who's studying them with the same intensity as she would a game of basketball.

Aomine's always looking at Kagami, even though he pretends he isn't looking, and Kagami does the same thing and yet, they never catch each other. Or maybe they do and they pretend they don't. Maybe it'd be awkward to mention they're practically always checking each other out when they're together, on and off the court, because Tetsuya is pretty sure that's exactly what Aomine's doing when he stares at Kagami's ass, and what Kagami's doing when Aomine turns his neck and Kagami stares at it like he wants to take a bite.

They're like two hungry wolves who refuse to even admit they're wolves, let alone hungry ones. It's frankly the most annoying thing Tetsuya's had to deal with in a long time. Why can't they just have sex or something and stop driving him nuts?

When they're all finish they get up and leave, intending to stop by the courts so Aomine and Kagami can blow off some of their never ending steam. Honestly, how do they not realize they're similar in all the ways that count? They'd actually be great together. Or awful. But _together_ is what's important here.

They walk close together, standing in each other's space unconsciously. Aomine's hand creeps up around Kagami's shoulder, tugging him closer to piss him off. Kagami slaps him away before, all of two seconds later, he's doing the same thing. It's actually ridiculous. Tetsuya feels his eyes threaten to roll, and he struggles to maintain his neutrality.

"They don't get it do they?" Tetsuya muses.

Momoi, ever the observant one, cocks her head to the side and says, "What, that they're totally in love?"

Tetsuya wouldn't have phrased it that way, but "Yes. That."

She shakes her head, twirling a strand of hair around her finger on one hand, and squeezing Tetsuya's hand with her other. "I know. They're too stupid, I guess," she says loudly.

The idiots turn. They've got their arms around each other for whatever reason. Tetsuya doubts they even know why; they probably don't need an excuse to touch each other. "Who're calling stupid?" they ask in unison.

Momoi sighs. "Oh, Tetsu," she says.

* * *

Song: _Love Me Dead _by Ludo


	4. Sweet, Sugar, Candyman (MuraMuro)

Atsushi moans unhappily. "Muro-chin," he groans.

Tatsuya, currently perched on the edge of Atsushi's bed, engrossed in an american novel, turns around to look behind him at his tall friend fondly. "Yes?" he replies innocently.

"Want candy," Atsushi moans.

Tatsuya frowns. "No. The dentist said you have to cut back."

"But I want it," he whines in his deep, drawling whine. Tatsuya has to fight a smile.

Atsushi's 6'10'' and yet, he behaves like a small child. It's unendingly amusing to be honest, how such a large guy could be so childish and innocent.

As if the prove a point, Atsushi scoots closer to Tatsuya and wraps his long arms around his middle, rubbing his face into his back. Tatsuya represses the urge to say "Aww."

"I haven't had any all day, Muro-chin."

"Oh? Really?" Tatsuya says, disbelievingly. He's almost certain Atsushi snuck candy at some point. Unfortunately, Tatsuya can't watch him 24/7, even if he really wouldn't mind doing so.

He feels Atsushi shake his head against him. "No, Muro-chin. No candy today. Can I have a piece?"

Tatsuya sighs and holds up his index finger. "One," he says sternly. He knows Atsushi will listen. For some reason, he actually does that now.

Atsushi almost smiles. His eyelids lower in contentment and Tatsuya would almost give him another just for being such an adorable lug.

He digs around in his pocket for a candy and hands it back to him.

He hears Atsushi sucking happily on it, laying his head against his back again.

Tatsuya sighs. Why he's always with Atsushi, he isn't sure. He's not the usual kind of guy Tatsuya would hang out with, but it's like having a kid and large pet at the same time, and not in a bad way. More of a…comfortable way. Atsushi presence is something he likes to have around. All the fucking time apparently, because here he is in his dorm room, _again_.

Tatsuya leans back into him, patting his head as a poorly disguised excuse to touch his hair.

Something to know about Atsushi: he's got the softest hair in the whole world; like fine strands of silk, but _better_. His head's warm and Tatsuya would love to just bury his face in it forever. Frankly, Tatsuya just likes the idea of keeping Atsushi around forever.

He imagines everything would always be warmer and cozier and _sweeter_ that way. He sighs, getting a whiff of Atsushi's shampoo, which, fittingly, smells like lavender and, oh yes, Tatsuya could just lay here until the end of time.

Atsushi pulls him back onto the bed, muttering that he's sleepy, and keeps his arms around him, holding him as one would a stuffed animal, and it makes Tatsuya feel small, but it also makes him feel special.

"Muro-chin," Atsushi mumbles against his hair.

"Yes, Atsushi?"

"Mmm…more candy?"

"No, Atsushi. I don't want you getting any more cavities." He pats his hand, conveying his apologies. Atsushi recently had yet _another_ cavity filled in, the dentist was comically flabbergasted at the shear amount of cavities in his teeth and also the complete lack of _caring_ on Atsushi's part. As soon as he was done, he asked when he could eat candy again.

Atsushi whines some more, but doesn't ask again, maybe beginning to understand why he can't have it. Maybe just not wanting to upset Tatsuya. Either way, it's a step in the right direction.

At some point, Tatsuya falls asleep. When he wakes he's still cuddled in Atsushi's warm, quietly snoring embrace. He smiles to himself, thinking how he could get used to sleeping in his arms, and turns around, pulling another candy from his pocket and placing it on the pillow next to Atsushi's head. He burrows into his shoulder, like he's making a little home for himself, and falls promptly back to sleep, breathing in the sent of lavender shampoo, face against hair much softer than any pillow.

* * *

Song: _Candyman _by Christina Aguilera


	5. Baby, I'm a Sociopath (AkaFuri)

Kouki hefts one of the grocery bags over his shoulder, panting at the weight.

He wishes he had a bike or a scooter or something; walking home with all these groceries is harder than he wants to admit, even though he tells himself he could use the workout.

He sighs. Just a few (twelve) more blocks to go.

He hears a car horn behind him, just a quick beep, like someone's trying to get his attention. But it can't be _his_ attention. Nobody in a car would want his attention. He's nobody really.

Still, he turns, despite himself.

And nearly drops every single bag of groceries.

Leaning casually out the window of an expensive black car is none other than the scariest human being Kouki has ever met.

Akashi Seijuro.

Kouki fights the urge to scream and run in the other direction.

What the hell could _Akashi fucking Seijuro_ want with _him_? Other than to cut him up into little screaming pieces with his scissors, of course. That's the only thing he could want with him.

"A-a-a-kashi-kun?" he stutters.

Akashi stares at him, head resting in the palm of his hand, looking so calm and cool, obviously very adept at hiding the madness underneath.

Despite his looks, Kouki knows the insanity is there. He's seen it.

"Furihata Kouki. I was wondering when our paths would cross again," he says in that _voice_ of his. The one that sends shivers down Kouki's spine…because it's terrifying of course. Not because, if you listen to it a certain way, it's actually kinda sexy. That's not why.

"W-w-were you?"

"Would you like a ride?" Akashi asks, staring at him with his mismatched eyes.

Kouki is caught off guard. His arm muscles scream "yes," but what if Akashi is planning on kidnapping him, killing him slowly, and then dumping his remains in a ditch where no one will ever find him?!

Akashi doesn't take his eyes off of him, and those eyes…they compel him. If anyone asks, Kouki was absolutely mind-controlled into that car.

"Ok," he says, hesitantly.

Akashi opens the door and scoots over to make room for Kouki, who dumps the groceries on the floor around his feet without finness and just enjoys the feeling of weightlessness that comes with the lose of his burden.

"What's your address?" Akashi asks, inclining his head toward the driver.

Akashi has a driver.

God, he must be rich as hell.

Kouki rattles off his address to the driver, trying not the think about the fact that now, Akashi will know where he lives.

They set off in silence before the awkwardness (and it's probably just awkward to him, because Akashi looks completely calm) takes over.

"So, um, thanks for the ride," Kouki says, glancing at Akashi from the corner of his eye.

"You're welcome," Akashi replies. "I'm pleased I ran into you."

"Oh, uh, why?" Kouki asks, terror mounting.

Akashi turns to him, pinning him to his seat with his eyes. And it's not just the eyes either (though it's mostly them), but Akashi's really kinda hot, in a scary, sociopathic kinda way and it makes Kouki really uncomfortable. He doesn't even know why he noticed.

Akashi, looking for all the world like an emperor, from his perfectly tailored suit to his seemingly brand new, shiny leather shoes, says, "I remembered you. And I don't normally remember people so inconsequential."

Kouki looks down. He doesn't want to admit to himself that that stung, but at the very least, it doesn't seem like Akashi will kill him.

He continues. "I was pondering why I would remember you. I wanted to figure it out."

Kouki glances at him, deciding that looking at him directly is a bad idea. He gets kind of lost in his eyes and distracted by his face and the insane color of his hair and just…everything about him is electric and captivating and he absolutely can not look at him directly for fear of being swallowed whole.

"D-did you figure it out?" he asks.

"Yes," Akashi replies, breezily.

Kouki can't help it. He looks at him, genuinely curious. Why would a guy as insanely magnificent as Akashi Seijuro notice a guy as ordinary as Furihata Kouki?"

"You're ordinary," Akashi tells him.

Kouki's downcast again. "I know." When he looks up again, Akashi is giving him a smile and it's not quite so manic. It's almost a normal smile. His eyes aren't so painfully wide. He's lowered his eyelids, tilted his head to the side and god, he's hot. Why's he so hot? He shouldn't be. It isn't fair.

"I mean, you are the epitome of ordinary. So ordinary, it's almost unbelievable," Akashi says with mild interest. Kouki's not sure if he can say anything with an inflection more prominent than mild interest. "I've never met someone like you before," he says. "Ordinary, and yet capable of associating with me. It actually makes you rather extraordinary."

Kouki blushes and knows it's misplaced and ill-timed, but continues to blush anyway. "Oh. Thanks?" he says, not sure if that's the correct response.

"Hmm," Akashi just hums, closing his eyes and leaning back away from Kouki.

Kouki hadn't noticed he been leaning towards him until he'd moved away.

He also noticed he hadn't been breathing until he finally sucked in a big breath of air, immediately making himself dizzy.

Akashi makes him dizzy.

"We're here sir," says the driver.

Akashi opens his eyes. "Hmm," he hums again. "Farewell, Furihata Kouki. I'll be sure to remember you."

Kouki's torn between wanting Akashi to forget all about him and never look at him again, and wanting him to look at him and only at him for the rest of forever. In the end he just says stupidly. "I'd never be able to forget _you_."

Akashi tilts his head to the side, his not-insane smile hanging on his face. "Of course not," he says.

Kouki gets out and closes the door behind him.

As the car speeds away, he catches Akashi's eye in the window.

Akashi's staring at him, an expression on his face that isn't quite psychopathic or mildly interested, but something else. Very near…fondness maybe?

But Kouki shakes his head. That's silly. Akashi Seijuro is incapable of being "fond" and certainly incapable of being fond of someone as ordinary as Furihata Kouki.

Still though, Kouki smiles to himself. At least Akashi said he won't forget him. The thought ties his stomach in knots…due to fear of course. Not because he likes him. No, just fear.

* * *

Song: _Serial Killer_ by Lana Del Rey


	6. Curled Around You, Babe (AoKaga)

Daiki has three favorite pass times: playing basketball, generally making an ass of himself, and taking naps.

He's realized as of late that if you add "with Kagami" to the end of any of these things, they become infinitely better. Playing basketball _with Kagami_, generally making an ass of himself _with Kagami_, and lastly, taking naps _with Kagami_.

How he figured this out is a story in it of itself. It's as follows:

* * *

In Which Daiki Ends Up Napping with Kagami

* * *

Almost nothing on this earth could stop Daiki and Kagami in the middle of a one-on-one, but nature seemed hell bent on doing so that day.

It seemed the very sky had decided to take a well needed piss, and it wasn't letting up anytime soon. Nevermind the near freezing temperatures, for the stubborn sky piss refused to freeze into snow, hell, even hail might be better than the deluge.

Maybe.

They'd end up less soaked, but with a significantly more substantial headaches should hail come, so before that could happen - or they end up more sopping wet then they already are - Daiki grudgingly proclaimed. "We should get inside. My place isn't too far from here."

Kagami, looking like a drowned cat, just nodded, shivering.

They escaped the freezing downpour, wet enough that they drip water all over Daiki's entryway.

"Sorry," Kagami said halfheartedly.

Daiki waved him away. "Whatever," he said, searching for some fluffy towels to burrow into until he was dry again and the rain stopped so he could kick the idiot out of his house.

"You rich or something," Kagami mumbled, looking around the foyer (cause he's got one of those) right before a towel collided cleanly with his face.

"Not really. Not like, Akashi rich," he snorted. "Akashi rich" being the richest of rich. He wasn't quite at that level, but his family certainly wasn't broke.

"Huh," Kagami said, not bothering to complain really. He was too cold, apparently. The guy didn't seem to like water much.

Daiki headed into the kitchen, deciding warm drinks to be a good idea. He pulled out two cups and dumped a pack of instant coffee into each, followed by instant hot chocolate and water because he's too lazy for anything more involved. Then he tossed them in the microwave and waited as Kagami tried, and failed, to maintain his balance while he dried off the bottoms of his feet, their shoes having been soaked clean through.

What a fucking pain.

Daiki watched Kagami struggle, patting his hair dry, thinking about how much of an idiot Kagami is.

The microwave dinged and he pulled the mugs out before realizing he'd made a cup for Kagami without thinking.

Shit, now Kagami would think Daiki's actually nice, or _worse_, that he likes him, both of which are the direct opposite of true.

He sighed and, not wanting to waste perfectly good instant coffee/hot chocolate, he walked over to Kagami, who had sometime along the way made the rather intelligent decision of sitting down to dry his feet, and hands him the mug with a "Here, idiot."

Kagami wrinkled his nose at it like he smelled something foul, which he didn't because Daiki's homemade (instant) mocha smells wonderful. "You trying to poison me?" he asked.

Daiki rolled his eyes. Frankly he can't blame him. He wonders if it's too late to pour rat poison in the cup. "Fine, take your pick then," he said, holding the mugs out to him. Even he's not stupid enough to poison both.

Kagami looked at him before deciding on the mug Daiki didn't offer him and taking a small sip. His eyes lit up all big and childlike and he said. "Mmm. Good. You had time to make Mochas?"

"Sure did," Daiki lied. Why he didn't just admit to using instant everything in place of actual work is still beyond him. Something to do with the slight swell in his ego at Kagami's simple appreciation of the drink. He rather just let Kagami be impressed with him for a little bit. He liked that. When Kagami was impressed with him.

Daiki sat beside him, sipping his own Mocha and thinking about the fact that people actually _made_ coffee these days, when instant suits him just fine. He also thought about how, despite how cold Kagami claimed to be, Daiki could feel his heat radiated off him in calm, steady waves and how that was comforting.

He coughed a bit, feeling dumb for thinking something like that.

Kagami glanced out the window. "Still pouring," he sighed.

"Yeah."

"Where are your parents?"

"At work, I guess. I don't keep track of them."

Kagami looked at him but didn't say anything else.

They finished their Mocha and Kagami yawned. "Is it weird that I get tired after coffee?" he asked through his yawn.

Daiki, usually quick to jump on the opportunity to insult his rival, just nodded and yawned in kind. "Nah. I do too."

Kagami blinked once. Twice. Three times. With each blink his eyes stayed shut longer and longer. "Sleepy," he muttered.

Daiki, who was getting sleepy just watching him, nodded. "Yeah."

Kagami slid down on the couch, muttering something about, a quick nap.

Daiki followed suit, laying down close to Kagami who was shaping up to be an excellent pillow/heater, and promptly fell asleep.

And it was lovely, wonderful sleep, until he heard a voice. A familiar one. An annoying one.

"Satsuki?" he muttered, opening an eye even while he body protested being woken up. He snuggled deeper into Kagami's embrace (shit, embrace?). His quiet, cat-like snores ticked his ear. In a good way (ah, fuck).

"Hi, sleepy head," Satsuki whispered cruelly, not wanting to wake Kagami apparently. "Just hold still, one more." Daiki regrets giving her the key to his place all those years ago.

"One more?" he muttered not understanding until he sees the phone in her hand, her thumb twitch over the button. "Bitch," he hissed.

She smirked. "You guys are too cute together," she puttered.

Daiki glared. "Fuck you," but it's half-hearted and sleepy. He can deal with her later, right now…

He turns around, snuggling around the big, warm Kagami pillow/heater and not feeling at all bad about it. He could get used to this.

"Aww…" Satsuki coos.

* * *

In the end, she deleted the pictures, but she also pokes fun at him every chance she gets.

"So, how's your boyfriend?" she jokes, barely suprressing a grin.

"Shut up," he rolls his eyes.

She laughs. "Oh, Dai-chan. When will you learn?"

"Learn what?" he grits angrily.

She waves her hand. "Nothing, nothing," but she sputters with laughter to herself for the rest of the day.

Daiki hates her.

He hates Kagami, too.

But he loves playing basketball with him, being an ass with him, and yes, he loves napping with him too apparently.

* * *

Song: _Midnight _by Barcelona


	7. Kiss From a Rose (KasaKise)

"Senpai?"

"What?" Yukio dribbled the ball angrily, though he can't remember what he's angry at. Kise's here. Maybe that's it. The idiot just makes him angry.

They're the only one's there in the gym. Yukio wanted to practice some free-throws, and Kise stuck around just to be a pest.

"Have you ever kissed anyone?"

The ball lands squarely on Yukio's foot. "Shit! What?!"

Kise tips his head to the side with a wide-eyed, innocent kind of look, though Yukio always expects that it's fake. He'd seen the deviousness lurking behind those eyes; he knows better than to trust Kise further than he can drop-kick him (which is admittedly a fairly good distance).

"Have you ever kissed anyone?" Kise repeats. Yukio still can't gauge what he's getting at.

"No," he hedges. So what, he's never kissed anyone. He doesn't give a fuck.

"You scare people off, don't you senpai?" Kise asks with a stupid grin.

Yukio feels his face flush. "What? No…I…do I?" he stuttered, suddenly wondering if that's why girls would always stare at him until he met their eyes. Then they would get this weird look on their face and walk the other direction, whispering. He never knew why, but is his face that scary? He has to ask. "Am I really that scary?"

"Yes," Kise replies breezily. "But, I don't mind."

"I don't give a shit if you don't mind," Yukio mutters, because sure, the blond moron doesn't mind, but every girl on planet earth seems to. At this rate, he'll never get a girlfriend.

"Girls think you're cute, Kasamatsu-senpai, but when you glare at them like that, they don't know what to do."

"Girls think I'm cute? How do you know? Some of your groupies tell you?" he snaps. He doesn't like Kise's groupies one bit. Not. One. Bit.

"Yes, actually."

"Hmph," he puffs noncommittally.

Kise looks away for a moment at nothing in particular, then "Also, I think you're cute."

Yukio glares. Or tries to anyway. It feels a bit wrong on his face. "You…what?"

"Think you're cute."

"Why?" he blurts. That's probably not the right thing to ask. He should probably just kick him for being dumb, but he can't even raise his foot enough to do so; it's like he's rooted to the ground. _Does_ Kise really think he's cute? Why would he? Kise's…well…Yukio isn't blind, he knows Kise's good-looking…or maybe a little bit more than that. Great-looking. Fantastic-looking. Gorgeous as fuck, really, so why would _he_ think Yukio's cute? Yukio's not cute and he says so.

Kise smiles a strange little smile. "Yeah, you are." Yukio turns impossibly redder. Why is Kise doing this to him? Kise, as if answering his unspoken question, says "I thought you heard, in class. Those girls were talking about us. The team. I just wanted to make sure you knew they were wrong."

Yukio looks away. _That's_ why he was angry. He remembers now. Sometimes there are so many things bothering him at once that he can't remember all of them. "I don't care what some dumb girls have to say." It was a lie though. Their words now buzzed around his head like angry bees. _I'd date anyone on the basketball team…except maybe the captain,_ and then they'd giggled about it. He hadn't cared to hear anymore, so he'd walked away.

"You know, after you left the girl said it was because you were too intimidating. She didn't think she'd even have a shot."

Yukio shakes his head. That can't possibly be true. No girl ever showed interest in him. While other guys went on about the girls they flirted with, the dates they went on, Yukio just sat and grimaced and sulked in his angry, abrasive way, saying it didn't bother him, but it did.

"That…can't be true," he says.

"It is. And I mean it, Senpai." Kise looks away again, avoiding eye-contact. He looks giddy, giddier than usual at least, like he can't contain himself.

It's annoying as hell. "What?" Yukio snaps at him, needing him to just stop being so…fidgety.

"I'd kiss you," Kise says kinda quietly, he looks equal parts bashful and cocky, which seems to be some kind of cosmic contradiction, and yet, it looks right on him, as everything does.

"You'd…kiss me?" Yukio trips headlong over his words. _What?_ What's Kise even saying right now?

"I would." He snaps his eyes to Yukio's then, fast and intense. "Can I?" he asks, both hesitant and resolute.

Yukio sucks in a labored breath. Kise is asking to kiss him? Why? Why is this even happening? And why is Yukio saying "Yes?" Breathing it really, like a plea.

Kise puts his hands on Yukio's cheeks, smiling that weird smile again. And then he leans forward and kisses him, softly at first, and then harder.

Yukio doesn't even know what to do. Doesn't know why he said yes or why his lips are moving against his own will, or why his fingers are in the soft strands of Kise's stupid blond hair. All he knows is that's what's happening.

Kise pulls away, a little breathlessly, eyes bright and wide. "Senpai," he whispers.

Yukio can't even choke out a reply, so he just stares at him.

"Sorry," Kise breathes.

"For…?" Yukio finally finds his voice.

"I just…really wanted to kiss you."

"Oh." Yukio knows Kise can feel his cheeks heat up under his hands, still lingering on his face. "Why?" he has to ask. Yes, why would gorgeous, stupid model Kise want to kiss someone like Kasamatsu Yukio? More importantly, why would Yukio kiss _him_? He doesn't, would never, could never _like_ Kise. Right?

"I just…I like you, Senpai. Even when you're mad at me."

"Oh," Yukio repeats. But Yukio is such a jackass to Kise, and he _still_ likes him?

"Kise, I…" he struggles to regain some of his composure. He's the captain, after all, the older one, he shouldn't be blubbering like a baby. "I'm sorry."

"For what?" Kise looks a bit nervous, like Yukio's going to reject him.

"That I hit you all the time."

And then Kise looks relieved, grinning widely. "Oh, it's ok, Senpai, I know you just care."

"What gave you that stupid idea?" Yukio asks harshly. "I hit you because you're annoying."

"Aww…"

"But…" Yukio rises on his toes a bit, brushes his hand through Kise's bangs and his lips across the other's. "I do care."

This time Kise turns into a blubbering little mess, and Yukio feels a bit smug, despite himself. He didn't know he could ever have the effect on someone. It was strangely empowering, and he needed that.

Confidence restored, Yukio pushes him away. "Now get off me and let me practice."

Kise whines. "Senpai."

"And maybe we'll grab food after."

"Like a date?" Kise asks, hopefully.

Yukio really, _really_ wants to say no but, "Call it whatever you want," he says.

"Can we kiss again?" Kise asks.

"If you stop bugging me for five minutes."

Kise mimes zipping his lips, but two seconds letter, he's blowing him a kiss, so it kinda ruins the concept.

Yukio rolls his eyes, schooling his face into a scowl and going back to practicing.

_Girl_friend? Maybe not, but god, every girl in school is gonna hate him now.

He smirks to himself.

Fine by him.

He doesn't give a fuck.

* * *

Song: _Kiss From a Rose _by Seal


End file.
